Hey It Really WAS a Dream!
by Eponymous
Summary: Turns out Julia was right. Who knew?


Spoiler Warning: Spoilers for the end of Cowboy Bebop.   


Hey... It Really WAS a Dream!   
by Eponymous 

Something was bothering Spike, and it wasn't the gut wound he'd   
recently received. That in itself threw him, since, if something was   
going to bother him, it really should have been the gut wound. When   
one gets a humungous gut wound, the first and only thought one   
typically has is, 'Dear God, this humungous gut wound!' Not that   
Spike actually knew this from experience, but it stood to reason. 

Instead what was bothering Spike was a strange warbling buzzing noise   
from a few feet away. Let's see, where had he heard this before? It   
sounded familiar. It almost sounded like... 

"Will you _never_ learn to hum on-key?" he muttered. 

That earned him a sharp blow to the gut that made his eyes bulge open.   
More out of shock at there being a gut there to take the blow than   
anything. 

Standing above him, as he'd expected, was Faye. As he'd not expected,   
however, it was a teenage Faye. Some ten - scratch that, sixty years   
younger than she was the last time he'd seen her. 

"Uh, Faye. You're looking... young," he said, with uncharacteristic   
confusion in his uncharacteristically high-pitched voice. 

"Oh, you're awake," she said. "Took you long enough. You've been in   
and out of it for days." 

"In and out of what? Where am I?" 

"The hospital, where else?" 

"Erm, well, I seem to remember this gut wound in a penthouse on   
Mars... And a spaceship before that... If that helps." His head   
hurt. Also his voice was cracking, which only made it hurt more. 

Faye took a good, long look at Spike. "Okaaay," she said slowly, so as   
not to provoke a psychotic episode or anything. "Tell you what, why   
don't you look around the room, tell me what you see." 

In response, Spike let his eyes wander around the small hospital room.   
"That's a facewasher," he said, pointing to a coffeepot. "That's a   
washing machine," he said, pointing to a television. "And that's a   
thermometer," he said, pointing to a phone. "So really, the only   
thing I don't know is... is why the hell is my voice cracking?" 

Faye let her increasing look of disbelief give way into a derisive   
smile. "Well, you see, as a boy gets older, a bunch of things start   
happening to his body. His voice starts to crack, and he starts to   
get hair in places-" 

"I know what puberty is, Faye!" Spike snapped. "Why am I going   
through it again?! And where's my freaking gut wound?!" 

Okay, that sounded significantly less cool than he remembered being. 

Faye, however, didn't notice. "You want a gut wound, I'll give ya   
one," she said, and grabbed a mirror from his nightstand. She made to   
smash it for a weapon, threateningly. "Or are you gonna quit your   
whining?" 

"The mirror," Spike said urgently. 

"What?" 

"The **_Mirror!_**" 

Faye was startled enough to just hand him the thing. He looked in it,   
cautiously. There he was, Spike Spiegel, age 13. His hair was   
shorter, his skin was less than smooth, and he hadn't even grown any   
stubble in all the time he'd been unconscious. 

"It... It really _was_ a dream..." he said in a high-pitched whisper. 

"Must've been some dream," Faye muttered. 

"It was! I'm not even sure... I can't remember... Who are you,   
exactly?" 

"I'm Faye, I thought we'd established that." 

"Yes, but who is Faye? What's your last name? How do I know you?   
What's your blood type, favorite food, three sizes-" blow to the gut,   
"Sorry, reflex. But who are you to me?" 

Faye sighed. "I'm your classmate. We go to the same school. They   
sent me over to keep watch for everybody." 

"Are we good friends?" 

"Is the Pope Buddhist?" 

"I don't know! As far as I can remember everybody on Earth converted   
to Waffleism in 2052!" 

"Waffleism?" 

"Don't ask." 

"Well, it's not 2052 yet Spike, not for another fifty years or so.   
You're in Tokyo General Hospital, where you've been for the last   
week." 

"Oh... Hey, wait a minute! I was in a coma, wasn't I? Why the hell   
did you hit me in the gut like that for? I return from the abyss of   
living death and the first thing you do is hit me?" 

"Spike, technically you were only in a coma for about three minutes.   
The rest of the time you were just too damn lazy to wake up. You   
talk in your sleep, you know that? You oughtta thank me for taking   
it upon myself to smack you conscious." 

"Oh. How-" 

"AHEM?" 

"...Thank you for smacking me concious." 

"That's better. So, anyhow, this dream of yours, what was it about?" 

"Er, lessee..." Spike tried to get a handle on the details, as they were   
already slipping away, "Uh, it was the future. You and I were both   
bounty hunters, and we were traveling around the solar system in a   
spaceship called the Bebop." 

"Bebop? Like the jazz subgenre? Makes sense. You ended up in here   
after a freak harmonica accident." 

"A What?" 

"They told me not to ask, I didn't ask. So who else was in your   
dream? If you put me in there, chances are maybe some other people we   
know were-" 

Spike's face took on a look of stark terror. "Faye, do we know a   
blond guy named Andy?" 

"No." 

"Musashi?" 

"No, why-?" 

"Wyatt Earp?" 

"No, what does-?" 

"Do we know anybody, anybody at all, who enjoys horses or stew?" 

"No, damn it!" 

"Thank God." 

"I'll get on it as soon as I find a way around that whole pesky 'I'm an   
atheist' thing. So come on, who else was in your dream?" 

"Oh, well... there was a dog named Ein... I think he was a welsh   
corgi..." 

"Ein was a welsh corgi? Man, you must really have it in for that   
guy." 

"Ein is a person?" 

"Yeah. Computer guy, I used to steal his lunch in grade school. I   
dunno, I guess he does have really thin eyebrows..." 

Spike interrupted, something more intriguing having come to mind.   
"Faye, there was also this little girl named Edward Wong Hau Pepelu   
Tivursky the Fourth. Who's she?" 

"Oh, I don't think she was based on a real person. Most likely she   
was a manifestation of your repressed id." 

"How can you be sure?" 

"Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivursky the Fourth is your middle name.   
Parents went kinda nuts when they filled out your birth certificate." 

On that note, a pale, white haired man in a green shirt and trousers   
wandered out of the bathroom, pushing a cart and muttering to himself.   
Spike thought he seemed vaguely familiar, though he could no longer   
remember quite why. 

"There is nothing to believe in in this world..." the man muttered,   
"A beast with no fangs must be put to death... I am the only one who   
can kill you... I am the only one who can keep you alive..." 

"Er, Faye, who is that guy?" 

"Oh, him? He's just the orderly." 

"Yes, just... the orderly," the man said, half to himself, half to his   
imaginary friends. "He did not die for me, he died for... the   
Order... heh, heh... Yes, I am... the orderly. I do... bedpans.   
Heheheheh..." The white haired lunatic wandered off. 

"Huh," Spike said. 

"So who else was there?" 

"Well, the only other person on the ship was Jet." 

"Doesn't ring a bell. Describe him." 

"He was my bounty hunting partner. Bald, bearded guy with scars on   
his face, wore this sleeveless getup..." 

"Sounds like a cross between our Home Ec teacher and Gene Starwind." 

"Gene Starwind?" For some reason the name brought feelings of...   
ridicule. 

"Hello? You *are* the president of the Outlaw Star fan club,   
remember? Which prolly explains the whole space bounty hunter thing,   
come ta think of it. Let me guess, was your love interest a meek,   
kindly young woman with a mysterious secret?" 

"No, I'll have you know she was a really cool, tough, deep-voiced   
blonde woman." 

Faye looked at him... oddly. 

"What?" 

"Deep-voiced, blonde woman," she repeated, slowly. 

"Yes, what does that-" 

Suddenly Julia ran in, the same age as she'd been in his dream, and   
flung her arms around him. "Spike!" she effused. "They told me you   
were awake, oh thank god you're back, we missed you so much..." She   
babbled for another minute before being interrupted by a portly, dark-   
skinned doctor who appeared in the doorway. 

"Excuse me, Mrs. Spiegel? We have some forms we need you to sign   
before we can release your son, don't we nurse?" 

"Yes, Doctor," said the nurse beside him. 

"Don't worry, honey, I'll be right back!" Spike's mother said, and   
headed out again. 

Silence adorned Spike's hospital room for a time. 

"....faye...." Spike finally said, wide eyed and pale. 

"Yeah?" 

"...i have serious issues..." 

"Ohhh, yeah."   


**_SEE YOU TEENAGE OTAKU WITH OEDIPAL ISSUES..._**

Cowboy Bebop was created by Hajime Yatade and is the property of   
Sunrise and Bandai Entertainment. 


End file.
